Family - the Ties that Bind...and Gag!
by Zanne Chaos
Summary: (written in 1999) Scott manages to get Jean, Maddie, Cable, Nate and Stryfe in for family counseling
1. Disclaimer/Intro

**Family: the Ties that Bind...and Gag!  
_Introduction_**

  


* * *

  
  
Samantha glanced up from the book she was reading, looking toward the door, and sighed. "Another one, huh? Oh, well, if I must, I must." Putting the book down, she gestured to a chair across from her, motioning for the Reader to take a seat.  
  
"Naw, this isn't the story," she said. "My job in this unholy mess here is to handle the legal stuff." She flicked the flimsy plastic pin-on badge in irritation. "I'm the disclaimer hostess, whatever that means. Apparently my Writer's muse, Kayus, decided that even though this story, while a sillyfic, is gonna stick to canon, more or less, I still needed to be punished somehow. After all, their excuse was that they were born a Summers. I was crazy enough to marry into that family shrub."  
  
She chuckled at the Reader's shocked expression. "Yes, yes, I know. You're not certain what my problem is, but you're betting it's hard to pronounce."  
  
"What's hard to pronounce?" a male voice piped up, and Samantha and the Reader both turned to see Bobby Drake poking his head in.  
  
Then the unfortunate lad blinked, and looked around, realizing a writing was in progress. "Uh-oh. Um, I just remembered I uh, left something on the err...the stove! Yes! That's it!" he exclaimed and tried to bolt from the room.  
  
He was brought back not even a second later, kicking and screaming as a long, black, tentacle dropped him in a chair next to Samantha. The black tentacle retreated, slamming the door.  
  
"Kayus gotcha too, huh?" Samantha asked. "About damn time. I didn't adopt you as my younger brother so I could suffer through this family thing alone."  
  
Bobby just whimpered. "I don't wanna go to those sessions. I have nightmares about them already!"  
  
"Don't worry. We won't," Samantha said. "At least I won't. I don't care what crazy ideas Kayus and our Writer come up with. If Scott thought talking Nathan and Stryfe into going into family therapy was hard, he ain't seen nothing yet."   
  
"Yeah, trying to convince you that therapy might be a good thing is like trying to convince ol' Pocy-lips that his whole Darwinist theory might be just a tad overblown," Bobby quipped.  
  
Samantha glared at him, then looked back to the Reader. "Okay. I'm supposed to be telling you things like, well, folks like Dr. Marcus -- bless his lil' ol' pea-pickin' heart -- and other various office-type people who work for him who might turn up belong to my Writer. I'm also supposed to tell you to please not use them without asking her first."  
  
"I can't see why you'd want to," Bobby said. "By the time our Writer's through with him, he's liable to be a gibbering idiot and a permanent fixture of Ravencroft."  
  
Samantha snickered. "Anyway, everybody else, like my dear hubby, and the in-laws that unfortunately came with him -- why does marriage have to be a package deal? -- are property of Marvel, the poor things. That's why my Writer does stuff like this. She feels that Marvel mistreats them."  
  
Bobby blinked. "And she calls what she does to us being nice?"  
  
"Of course not. She's an evil, cruel, sadistic, warped woman, and damn proud of that fact. But hey, she gives airtime to neat guys like 'Star, and you've even got a rep in her work as being an actual person, not just the resident butt-of-all-jokes," she pointed out.  
  
"True," Bobby said reluctantly.  
  
"Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. My Writer isn't getting paid for this either. She's doing this for fun. She gets her satisfaction from torturing us. But, of course, if you would like to leave to sacrificial offerings of feedback -- which works better AFTER you read the story -- and maybe some imported Swiss chocolates, just go over there." She pointed over the Reader's shoulder at a massive mailbox. Samantha looked to Bobby. "Am I forgetting anything important?"  
  
"Let's see. Hmm. Well, it was written for the 'Cheer Up JBMcD' challenge, and we oughta make note that the XXY Universe can be found at the XXY: The Marvel Mutant Genderswap Project (http://alara.dreamhost.com/xxy.html), and is edited by Alara Rogers," Bobby said. "I also feel that for my own sanity, I should say that Cardboard Man's mental images have nothing whatsoever to do with the actual universe."  
  
Samantha snickered. "True, but Nathan in drag?"  
  
Bobby shuddered. "I'm about to take up Stryfe's example and use head-on-wall-beating as a form of therapy if I can't get rid myself from that mental image."  
  
"Oh, and the title actually comes from an Erma Bombeck book, but it's so fitting for the Summers, don't you agree? That's about it, I believe," Samantha said, looking back to the Reader. "Behind me" -- she pointed over her shoulder -- "those doors lead into the chapters of the story of what happened when the Summers family began attending family therapy sessions."  
  
"Abandon all hope ye who enter here!" Bobby added in a spooky voice, wiggling his fingers in a hocus-pocus style for effect. Samantha reached into the endtable drawer and pulled out a large bottle of Advil, tossing it to the Reader.  
  
"Take it with you," she advised sagely. "You're about to explore a family shrub so complicated that it makes quantum physics about as easy to follow as Bill Cosby's Picture Pages."  
  
"Not to mention most of the Summers family members couldn't warm up to each other if they were cremated together," Bobby supplied helpfully.  
  
Samantha chuckled. "If you still want to risk life, limb, and sanity--"  
  
"Proceed," Bobby said ominously, forcing his voice as deep as he could manage, trying to mimic the Cave of Wonders from Disney's _Aladdin_, earning him a solid, backhanded, thwap in the chest from Samantha. "OW!"  
  
As the Reader headed to the first door, Bobby could be heard once again. "Hey, sis, wanna go play paintball?"  
  


* * *


	2. The Waiting Room

**Family: the Ties that Bind...and Gag!  
_Part One: The Waiting Room_**

* * *

  
_"It is fast approaching the point where I don't want to elect anyone  
stupid enough to want the job."_  
~Erma Bombeck  


* * *

  
"Whose bright idea was this anyway?" Madelyne Pryor asked, impatiently tossing the year old magazine back down on the table.  
  
"The Professor's," Scott answered. He hadn't taken his eyes off the seaside painting on the wall across the room. Maybe if he just wished a little bit harder, he would end up there. Anywhere but here would be preferable.  
  
"Ha! I should have known," Madelyne said bitterly, her voice grating on Scott's nerves. "You're just his lapdog, you realize that? A lying, cheating, two-timing--"  
  
"Maddie, you're getting redundant," Nate Grey interrupted.  
  
"That's only because there's no word good enough to capture the full--" Maddie continued.  
  
"Mom, you _promised_." Scott thought Cable's voice was actually bordering on a whine just then. It had been pulling teeth to get him to agree to come.  
  
To get _any _of them to agree to come.  
  
"Don't get me started on listing what's wrong with you!" Jean growled, wrapping her hand possessively over Scott's arm.  
  
"Butt out, sow," Maddie snapped.  
  
"Oh, as Rogue would say, that tears it," Jean said, standing up as she shoved her sleeves up to her elbows. "You're tangling with the wrong X-Man!"  
  
"Gee. I'm scared now. Miss Goodie Two-Shoes is having a hissy fit," Maddie said blandly.  
  
It took the combined efforts of Scott, Nate, and Cable to keep Jean from tackling her.  
  
"Jean! Stop it!" Scott ordered.  
  
"That goes for you too, Mom," Cable said.  
  
"Yeah, the receptionist is looking at us funny," Nate whispered, giving the wide-eyed brunette behind the desk a wan smile.  
  
"Not to mention I will personally rip off your heads if you don't shut up," Stryfe snarled from his seat in the corner on the other side of the waiting room, peering at them from behind his hand, which he kept over his eyes. "Just _looking _at you people is giving me a headache."  
  
"I've got a cure for that headache. C'mere and I'll show you," Cable said, with a grin much too feral for Scott's taste.  
  
"Oh, lord, Nate. Don't you start too," he said.  
  
"What did **_I_** do?" Nate Grey demanded.  
  
"You--? Oh, I was talking to _him_," Scott said, pointing to Cable.  
  
"Scott, get it right. He's Cable. I'm Nate."  
  
"I'm older than you so it was my name first," Cable said.  
  
"Oh, this is delightful," Stryfe groaned. "Dumb and Dumber's mommies didn't teach them to share."  
  
"You're one to talk, Stryfe," Jean snapped.  
  
"Why did you have to give us the same name?" Nate complained.  
  
"Oh, quit whining," Jean told him, and sat down in a huff.  
  
"I didn't name you!" Scott protested. "I didn't name Cable either."  
  
"That's because you were too busy running around with that hussy!" Madelyne snapped.  
  
"Hussy? The Goblin Queen who tried to sacrifice her son is calling **_me_** a hussy?" Jean asked incredulously.  
  
"Oh, geez, do you have to bring up that little incident again? Past is past. My boy's forgiven me, haven't you Nathan?"  
  
When Cable didn't answer immediately, everyone glanced at him.  
  
"_Nathan_!?" Maddie screeched.  
  
"Well, _actually_, now that you mention it...."  
  
"Oh, I don't believe I'm hearing this!" Maddie said, throwing up her hands, exasperated.  
  
"I only wish I wasn't," Stryfe complained.  
  
"Mental note to self, find Blink and hitch a ride home," Nate muttered, sinking into a chair. "At least it was more peaceful there."  
  
"What? Are you trying to leave me too?" Maddie's voice was nails on a chalkboard. "You're just like that no-good, lying father of yours!"  
  
"Am I the only one here who thinks this is just sick?" Stryfe asked.  
  
"Humpty Dumpty's calling us cracked?" Jean retorted.  
  
Scott tensed as Stryfe stood up and took the empty seat next to Nate, draping his arm across his shoulder. Nate responded by leaning in the opposite direction far enough that he was practically in Maddie's lap, all the while looking at Stryfe as one might look at a slice of six month old meatloaf.  
  
"Nate, _brother_, **_pal_**," Stryfe said, his tone clearly implying he thought of Nate as anything but, "let me _explain _something to you. Jean's your _mother_. Maddie's her _clone_. That makes Maddie your mother of sorts by default."  
  
"That would be like me and Jean," Cable said.  
  
"And that's just ... **_ew_**!" Jean agreed, shuddering for emphasis. At Cable's slightly wounded look, she hurriedly added: "not that I don't find you attractive ... err ... I mean, you're good-looking, umm ... I'm shutting up now."  
  
"Please do," Stryfe growled. "You're going to make this guy rich trying to rid me of these mental images."  
  
Scott merely rested his head in his hands and wondered what possessed him to follow up on Charles' suggestion.  
  
"I have a question. What are we doing **_here_**?" Nate asked. "I mean, isn't Xavier a psychiatrist?"  
  
"He's not crazy enough to try this himself," Jean muttered.  
  
"Please, give this a chance," Scott begged. "I really think this would be beneficial to all of us, to work out unresolved issues in a safe environment."  
  
"What, you mean killing Stryfe in the Danger Room doesn't apply?" Cable asked. Scott glared at him.  
  
"Just promise me none of you will try to kill the therapist," Scott said.  
  
"That's a lot to ask from this crowd," Stryfe said, then grinned wolfishly. "Especially me."  
  
"You're not killing anybody today, Stryfe."  
  
"Like you could stop me? You've never been able to in the past."  
  
Before Stryfe was finished talking, Cable was at the very bottom of a dog pile in a frantic attempt to keep him away from Stryfe.  
  
"I rest my case," Stryfe goaded.  
  
"Stryfe, muzzle it!" Jean snapped.  
  
"_Yes_, **_please_**!" Scott grunted, struggling to hold onto Cable, buried underneath the two women and Nate. "The therapist wouldn't appreciate brains splattered on the walls."  
  
"What brains?" Cable growled.  
  
"Nate, do you **_mind _**not _sitting _on me?" Jean snapped. "If you're going to participate in the dogpile, then **_do _**it!"  
  
"I don't mind in the slightest," Nate said from somewhere on top of the heap. "I'm helping. It's called telekinetics. Try it sometime."  
  
"Get offa me and I'll show ya a few tricks," Jean growled.  
  
Suddenly Scott yelped. "OWW!!! _MADDIE_!! Knees do **_not _**go there!!"  
  
And that was how the therapist found them in his waiting room. Stryfe sitting in a chair calmly, Cable struggling to get away from everyone ranting on about how he'll kill Stryfe, Nate sitting on top of everyone, reading a magazine, Scott exploring new realms of pain, Maddie kicking Jean in the kneecaps while Jean ripped at her hair....  
  
And all Scott could do was wonder was why that poor man didn't turn tail and run the first chance he got.  
  
  
  



	3. Session One

**Family: the Ties that Bind...and Gag!  
_Part Two: Session One_**

* * *

  
  
One by one, they filed into the inner office. Stryfe walked in first, swaggering like he owned the place. Cable and Nate took up the rear, with Nate dutifully keeping Cable out of arm's reach of Stryfe. Scott considered positioning himself between Maddie and Jean, but a certain pain in a very specific location where the southern regions of his body came in contact with Maddie's knee resulted in a quick dismissal of that idea.   
  
When they took their seats, however, Scott found he wasn't that fortunate. To his right was Maddie and Stryfe, respectively. To his left was Jean, Nate, and then Cable.   
  
The therapist sat across the room from them. **_Way_** across the room. Behind a desk, gripping to it like his life depended on it.  
  
It probably did.   
  
"Now," the therapist said, breaking the silence with a weak attempt at a smile, "why don't we introduce ourselves? My name is Dr. Marcus." He then looked at them expectantly.   
  
And Scott realized everybody else was looking at _him_.   
  
"I ... I'm Scott Summers," he said.   
  
"Very good. What about the rest of you?"  
  
"Jean Grey-**_Summers_**," Jean announced, glowering at Maddie pointedly as she emphasized the last name.   
  
"And you can keep that lying sack of shi--" Maddie started to say.   
  
"Whoa, I can see we're off to a rousing start here," the therapist quickly butted in. "I'd like to lay down some ground rules here. No inflammatory criticism is allowed. If you persist, you will be given a time-out. Now, let's see if we can't reconstruct that statement to be more constructive. Now, Miss...?"  
  
"Pryor. Madelyne Pryor."   
  
Jean smirked. "James Bond you're not, Maddie. Or maybe you are. Did you get your 007 rating on a scale of one to ten, one being the worst, on your expertise in the sack?"   
  
"JEAN!" Scott protested.   
  
"Well, actually, she wasn't too--" Nate started to say, and then everyone began talking at once. 

"STOP!! SHUT UP!! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THIS!!" Stryfe screamed, clamping his hands over his ears.   
  
"Nate, do you have **_any _**idea how traumatizing it is to have to hear someone **_younger _**than me, who _**is**_ me, talking about how good my **_mother_** is in bed?" Cable complained.   
  
"Cable, **_you're_** older than your mother," Nate said.  
  
"Bring it on, Miz Thang, you and me, Astral Plane, now," Maddie growled at Jean, leaning over Scott's lap. He leaned back as far as he could, and prayed for a quick death.   
  
"And that's bad enough!" Cable told Nate.   
  
"Whoa, whoa! Time-out everybody! We haven't even made it through the introductions yet," the therapist said, getting a bewildered look.   
  
Scott didn't blame the man one bit.   
  
"All right," the therapist said, once everyone was as calm as they were ever going to get. "Madelyne, we'll get back to you in a moment." He looked at Stryfe, and Scott knew right then and there the man's sanity was going to be sorely tested when he saw the look of hope in the therapist's eyes. Clearly he thought that Stryfe was the sanest of the bunch. "What's your name?"  
  
"Stryfe."   
  
"That's ... a creative name. But it seems to suggest malcontent, and our goal here is to learn to get along. What's your real name?"   
  
"Stryfe."   
  
"No, I mean the name you were given when you were born."   
  
"I was never born."   
  
"Who're your parents?"   
  
"I suppose they're technically Scott and Maddie."   
  
"I see. You feel neglected, and thus have chosen a name you feel reflects your childhood."   
  
"No, I was named by the despot who raised me to take over the world."   
  
"Do you need any Advil yet?" Scott suggested helpfully. The therapist gave his desk drawer a glance that was both thoughtful and longing.   
  
"Advil? Try a strong anti-psychotic drug maybe," Jean muttered.   
  
"All right, and who might you be, young man?" the therapist asked, quickly dropping the Stryfe topic and looking to Nate.   
  
"Nate Grey."   
  
"That's good," Dr. Marcus said. "And you, sir?"   
  
"Cable."   
  
The therapist almost sighed. "Your real name?" he asked hopefully.   
  
It was Cable's turn to sigh -- or maybe it was just a deep breath. "Nathan Christopher Charles Dayspring Summers."  
  
Dr. Marcus blinked. "Umm ... I'll just call you Cable, if that's all right?" He looked at them. "Well, since we're all introduced...." He looked at Jean then at Maddie. "Are you two twins?"   
  
"No!" they both snapped at the same time.   
  
"She's my clone," Jean added, in a tone that clearly conveyed her opinion on Maddie's existence.  
  
"Your ... clone...?" Dr. Marcus repeated. "Umm. Okay, moving along. Scott, what's your relationship to these women?"   
  
"Well, umm," Scott said, scratching the back of his head, uncomfortably aware of both women staring at him. "Well, Maddie is my umm, ex-wife...."   
  
"_LIAR_!!!" Maddie screamed, jumping to her feet. "_**LIAR**_!!!!"   
  
"Shut up, witch!" Stryfe snapped, clamping his hands over his ear closest to her.   
  
"I'm not a witch!" Maddie screamed back at him, making him cover both ears. "I'm a Goblin Queen, get it right!"   
  
"Excuse me?" Jean asked a bit snobbishly. "What do you mean by '_liar_'?"   
  
"He married me, and never divorced me!"   
  
"You **_died_**, Madelyne."   
  
"I'm alive now!"   
  
"Umm, how did that happen?" Dr. Marcus asked.   
  
"Long story!" everybody chorused. Scott saw him look longingly at his desk drawer again.   
  
"So, you married her," Dr. Marcus said, pointing at Maddie while looking at Scott, "then she died and you married her?" He pointed to Jean.   
  
"_**No**_!" Jean interrupted. "First he was with **_me_**. Then **_I_** died, and he took up with that hussy, and had Nate--"   
  
"Uh, you mean Cable, I'm Nate," the younger man pointed out.   
  
"Whatever," Jean growled in annoyance. "Then I came back, and Maddie died, but not before trying to sacrifice Na-- **_Cable_** to some goblins for a portal, then he got sent to the future because he was going to die--"   
  
"Which is where I came in," Stryfe interrupted helpfully, giving the therapist a benign, friendly smile.   
  
"--and Scott and I married, and honeymooned in cloned bodies 2,000 years in the future to raise Na--**_CABLE_**," Jean continued without missing a beat. "Then someone started playing with timelines, and another alternate time was created--"   
  
"Which would be mine," Nate Grey piped up.   
  
"--and somebody brought Nate over here--"   
  
"Like we needed three of us running around?" Stryfe cut in.   
  
"You're invited to die at any time, Stryfe, you know that," Cable pointed out.   
  
"--and Nate started sleeping with Maddie; those two **_really_** need help, Doc--" Jean kept going.  
  
"Oh, give me a break, some alternate you spawned him, and I'm **_not_** his mother!"   
  
"At best, you'd qualify as an aunt, which is _still_ pretty sick, Mom."   
  
"Oh, don't you start too, Nate!"   
  
"I'm not starting _anything_! **_HE_** is **_Cable_**!!! **_I_** am **_NATE_**!!!"   
  
"And you're both _annoying_!" Stryfe added.   
  
"--and Cable killed Stryfe, Stryfe's taken over Cable's mind--" Jean said, talking louder over all the other voices.  
  
"Not to mention he killed my wife and brainwashed my son--" Cable started to say.   
  
"--who was actually **_my_** son." Stryfe pointed out.   
  
"And you're stupid enough to bring up something like that in here?" Maddie berated him. "Why, I oughta--"   
  
"--shut your mouth, just as long as it's not with Nate Junior's over there," Stryfe said.   
  
"--but some mouthbreather brought Stryfe back to life, and so, in short, Cable's Scott and Maddie's son, Stryfe's Cable's clone, Maddie's Scott's dead-undead wife, I'm his dead-undead girlfriend then wife, and Nate's mine and Scott's son, except I never actually had him, and I had a daughter I never actually had who set up the 2,000 years from now future which saved Cable's life and trained him to be the one Chosen to kill Apocalypse who raised Stryfe." She stopped, catching her breath. "Did I get everybody, honey?"   
  
"I ... _think_ so. Well, except for Alex, but he's dead and hasn't come back to life yet," Scott said. "And then there's Rachel, the daughter an alternate you and I had because you didn't die--"  
  
"I _did_ mention her," Jean protested, "just not by name, _per se_."  


"In that case, wouldn't that mean Rachel's actually a female Cable?" Nate asked. "That reminds me of some comic-based fan fiction Jubilee was telling me about where just about everybody was gender swapped."   
  
Everyone else was silent for a few minutes, just contemplating that. Furtive glances were exchanged. Scott didn't even have to be a telepath to know they were trying to visualize it. When his own mind produced mental images of a bearded Jean and Cable-in-drag....  
  
"**_ANY_**WAY!" Scott continued.  
  
"Moving _a**long**_," Stryfe added, nodding enthusiastically, making frantic passing gestures with his hands.  
  
"_Quickly_," Maddie said.  
  
"_**Now**_," Jean ordered.  
  
"_Please_?" Cable whimpered.  
  
"What's wrong?" Nate asked. "It's not--"  
  
"SHUT UP, NATE!" they all chorused.  
  
Scott cleared his throat. "Hmm. Where was I?"  
  
"Please, don't take us back to where you were," Stryfe begged. "Some days, it just don't pay to be a telepath."  
  
"Amen," Jean said tonelessly.  
  
"Gotcha. Anyway, there's my missing third brother, who some people think is that Adam X fellow, and some think it's Remy, and one very demented mind has suggested it might be Pete Wisdom."   
  
"_Wisdom_...a _**Summers**_? It's the end of life as we know it," Cable said.   
  
"Didn't Maddie sleep with your little brother too?" Jean asked Scott, her tone sardonic.   
  
"There wasn't anything _little_ about Alex," Maddie piped up.   
  
"Out, out, mental images! **_OUT_**, I say!" Stryfe screamed, turning to beat his head against the wall.   
  
"Well, I think that's it. Any questions?" Jean asked Dr. Marcus, finishing up.   
  
"Just one," Dr. Marcus said. "Would anyone mind if we stopped early today? I suddenly feel the need for a **_really_** strong drink."   
  


* * *

_Part Three? - I don't know. I started this in 1999,  
haven't touched it since.  
Under serious procrastination_


End file.
